Scrapheap
by F.B.Brambling
Summary: SHEILD depends on agents to be at the top of their game. What happens when you can no longer guarentee this? Does your job suffer? When you have to look out for someone other than just yourself? Postavengers. Natasha's view. Rated T for language, flirting and references. Felicity xoxo
1. Assignment

**A/N: This isn't the first story I've written; but it's the first on my new account. :) Please leave me a review or message me if you think it's good; I really want to know your opinions. This story will be quite long and I'll try to update it every week or so. It does involve Black Widow and Hawkeye slash eventually; it's all Black Widow's view… or at least how I interpret them. Post avengers. Stay with me on this folks.**

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**Chapter 1: Assignment**

Agent Romanoff collapsed on the bed. Lulling her head to one side, she checked the clock on the wall. Three a.m. She sighed, trying to force herself to sleep; knowing that Director Fury would be again summoning her for another mission come sunrise, she willed herself to get a few hours before she had to report back to the base.

Turning to face the blank wall she tried to think dull thoughts until her mind shut down.

It was difficult. Simple as. She was a trained solider, the ultimate spy; she had thoughts rushing in and out of her head all the time. She tried to focus on sleeping, but the fact that her subconscious self was counting the different footsteps outside her room didn't help.

Sighing, she rolled over and studied the room. It was plain. But what else could she expect? SHEILD's dorms all looked the same; she'd slept in about fifty of them over time but all had the same furniture in the same positions. And all of them were grey.

Sometimes she envied the other Avengers.

It wasn't the praise. She wasn't too fussed about everyone celebrating the 'five heroes'. Agent Barton and she had asked for the discrete removal of their names from the footage. It had taken nearly no time to remove the evidence that Hawkeye and Black Widow even existed, as far as the public were concerned. It would have jeopardised both of their jobs; and they _needed _their jobs.

It was more the freewill. Sure, when duty called all the Avengers came running to the big battles. But in-between that, what did they do? Trained, improved, and got ready for the next huge threat that opposed the Earth. But not Agent Romanoff. She went back to finding and fighting the rogue criminals of this world, killing them, deposing of them; nothing new. She didn't have a choice. Fury would set her a mission every day, no matter what, and she had to complete it. Then when she did, she had another one. It was a continuous loop.

She wondered what it was like having an option. Just fighting in the large battles, every few months, where the public would swoon over her.

She couldn't think like that, she decided, after all if it wasn't for SHEILD, she'd be dead, or worse… she shuddered at the thought. It was defiantly time to go to sleep.

Her natural body clock awoke with a start. At least she thought it was her natural body clock. She woke every day at the same time… but something was different. It felt cold, as if the sun had not yet risen. She glanced up at the clock, her head drooping, and her eyes half shut, to make it seem like she was still asleep._ Just in case…_ she thought,_ Just in case someone's watching_. Through her blurred vision she made out the time; four twenty seven a.m., way too early for her liking. She felt a shift in the air at the end of her bed. Someone was there. Someone was definitely there.

She was right to be precautious.

Relaxing her body, to make the intruder believe she was asleep, she turned onto her back. A position she knew she could attack from, easily. Slowly, as the intruder shifted, she lifted an eyelid. The blurred outline figure was that of a man, obviously, he stood up; moved towards her bed. If she wasn't a trained assassin, she would have tensed, expecting the worse. But she was a trained assassin, so she relaxed, expecting the worse.

As the intruder moved to her bedside she got ready to pounce,

'I've seen you fight far too many times to know when you're preparing for an attack.' A slightly amused voice retorted. Her eyes snapped open. Bolting into a sitting position, staring at her colleague, she questioned him with a puzzling look. When he didn't respond, she scanned him. He was fully dressed and by his appearance he didn't seem tired or stressed, so he hadn't just come back from a mission. Why was he up so early?

This process took less than a second for Agent Romanoff to complete, and when she returned her gaze to that of the man in front of her, she was greeted with a raised eyebrow.

'You done, Natasha?'

Hearing her name made her tense up.

'Don't call me that…' She snapped. One of the downsides of being a spy; not being comfortable with someone other than yourself knowing your Christian name.

A smirk played on the man's lips. 'Okay, sorry, _Agent Romanoff_.' He sarcastically rolled the sentence off his tongue while running his hands through his sandy hair. His relaxed arms fell to his side in a playful manor, one that made Agent Romanoff relax.

'You're forgiven, Agent Barton.' She grinned, earning her a beaming smile from her colleague. Agent Barton took this remark as an invitation to sit down. So he did.

Perching on the end of the SHEILD bed, he carried on grinning at her. She kept her face stern and solid. He still hadn't explained what he was doing here.

The coldness in her eyes told him that he better give a good reason and quick.

'I came to tell you Fury wants you.' He said, simply. 'He wants you to do the tuition mission.' His face splitting into a smile at the rhyme. He laughed half-heartedly, like something was holding him back from his usual bellowed laughter.

She squinted at him. 'I don't understand… that was your mission.' She questioned him. Only to be answered with a bewildered look.

'How did… only I… you're not meant to know about it!' He squealed, jumping up staring at her with wild eyes. As she waited for his shock to pass, she stared at him with cool look. He sighed, 'How did you know? Only Fury, Hill and I know about that…' He rolled his eyes when she cocked her head to one side.

'After all this time? When the three top SHEILD agents have a meeting without me, you don't expect me to eavesdrop?' She chuckled, but his face remained hard. They both knew what she thought they were going to discuss; they both knew what had happened when SHEILD's previous top assassin has 'resigned' (as Fury had put it).

'Fury wouldn't have you killed… unless you know too much.' Barton assured her. 'Which if you keep listening in… you will.' He glared at her.

'I'd like to see him try.' She smirked. The thought popped into her head, maybe the reason Fury wasn't having her killed off like the other agents that had served their purpose, was because he knew no one would be able to defeat her. 'I'm not 'resigning' any time soon.' She teased.

This time Barton didn't laugh. 'Whatever. Look Fury wants to see you now.' He said, his voice like ice. It looked like Romanoff's comment had really stung him. She frowned; why?

'What happened to Agent Barton completing the mission?' She toyed with him. She wanted to make it seem casual but really she was hungry to know why he could no longer complete it.

He grinned and shrugged. 'I think he's otherwise engaged.' He laughed, raising both his eyebrows. She glared; she knew that was all she was getting out of him. 'And...' He began to ask before looking away, shaking his head and slowly walking towards the door. She leaped up.

'What?!' She asked, anxious at the unfinished question. He just turned and smirked.

'So paranoid…' He laughed. When her stare didn't falter he just laughed some more. 'I wanted to know how long you've been sleeping.' He said in a 'matter of fact' way.

'One hour and twenty seven minutes.' She whispered, still eager to know the reason why he was so questioning. 'Why?' She peered at him.

He again chuckled, opening the door. 'I wish I could sleep for less than two hours and still look perfect. I mean… you don't look tired or stressed at all.' He sighed opening the door. 'Then my life would be complete.' He joked, muttering to himself as he left.

She grinned. Clint knew how to both tease her and complement her at once. She frowned and shook her head. _No, not Clint. _She sternly told herself. _Agent Barton._

Waiting a few minutes, giving herself chance to prepare for the change from 'human' to 'work' mode, she set off towards the control room. As soon as she stepped out of the door, she was in assassin mode. Her mission had begun.

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**A/N: By the 'resignation' part, I basically meant that after they've served their purpose, Fury has his best assassins killed; for security reasons and stuff. Why does Fury need the Black Widow instead of Hawkeye? Why can't Barton complete the mission? And why did he look so hurt at Natasha's comment? All to be revealed in the next chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, I'll try and update soon! Please leave a review and tell me what you think should happen.**

**Felicity xoxo**


	2. Suspicions

**A/N: Hi, it's me again. Thank you so much for staying with me and carrying on reading! When I got your reviews I really appreciated it, and thank you to whoever 'guest' is? I put the wrong word into my summary, thanks for correcting me. Anyway, thanks for all the support and PMs that people have been sending; it's really encouraged me to write more and more! So anyway, read on.**

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**Chapter Two: Suspicions**

A plain looking woman. Glasses that sat on the end of her nose. Her eyes dark and dashing all over the place, constantly looking for something, whether it was equipment or a file. Her latex gloves had no creases, no place where it caught in the ridges of the skin. Her hair was brunette, red at the roots. Agent Romanoff frowned at that. Until noticing that, she'd quite liked the woman. Well, for the two seconds she'd known her.

The doctor glanced up. 'I can tell from here that your toe's broken.' She squinted down at the Black Widow's foot. 'Though…' she began, whilst applying anti-inflammatory to the black and blue skin that had swollen to nearly double the size of the original tissue.

'Go on.' The agent cooed in a smooth tone. The agents were the ones meant to be keeping the secrets, not the doctors, she started to dislike this woman more.

The woman stared at her with inquisitive eyes. They looked questioning but frightened at the Widow's haunting stare. She shook her head, laughing a little, usually the medics would panic at a look like that, but she'd dealt with at least a thousand agents. SHEILD agents too, meaning it was far worse.

She stood up and turned to replace the cream to her desk. 'I said go on.' Agent Romanoff demanded, staring coldly at the back of the doctor's head. She had been right to trust her instincts. Anyone who was ashamed of red hair was a deceitful little –

'There's no need to look at me like that.' The doctor rolled her eyes. Perhaps the agent _had _jumped to conclusions…? She focused her eyes into slits. _Better safe than sorry, _she heard herself think.

'Go on.' She repeated, her voice remaining in the tone the phrase had originally come out as.

The doctor just looked at her with unimpressed eyes. 'I'm a SHEILD doctor.' She reminded the Agent. 'I've seen this many times. You always jump ahead.' She sighed. 'Think I'm going to kill you in your sleep or something… always.' She muttered, and then looked back at the agent. 'This training makes you all so suspicious of the innocent of things. I was_ going_ to say, I was surprised you didn't have any other injuries.' She almost laughed.

The Agent relaxed a little on the inside, her guard remained strong and fierce. To the doctor, it seemed like no such change had taken place.

'I had a dislocated elbow, but I managed that myself.' Natasha repeated, only informing the doctor what she needed to know. 'I also became a victim to a nasty blow in the head, but I managed to get to a surgeon quickly. He sorted it.' She stated, as the doctor just nodded.

'Did he use stiches.' The doctor asked calmly. Looking at Agent Romanoff with eyes that, the widow could have sworn, said _You missed out the most important information._

'Yes.' She commented. Smoothly.

'Where was it?'

'Here.' The Agent pointed under her hair. The doctor examined it, as she lifted the mass or curls and inspected the ten stiches, that appeared just above her neck.

'Where you conscious…?' She asked curiously.

'Naturally.' The Agent smirked, doctors always doubted her.

The plain doctor relayed the information into the screen and then onto a paper format, just in case something happened to SHEILD's database. She looked up smiling at the Black Widow. 'Just need your confirmations now.'

The Widow grinned to herself on the inside. This was the part she loved; Fury was so secretive that he didn't even trust SHEILD doctors with his Agents' information. She knew the information would be changed, and her real name put on the database eventually, but she liked toying with the doctors. She had suspicions that she'd enjoy this one.

'Name?' 'Agent Smutt.' The agent retorted in a serious voice. The doctor just nodded; Romanoff had personally chuckled when she had chosen that name at the start. She was disappointed when the doctor didn't do the same. _Probably out of respect._ She assured herself. _She thinks it's my real name and all…_

'Mission?' 'Poisson H1.' She grinned, watching the doctor decide whether or not the French word for fish was a suitable mission name. _It's probably more suitable than 'tuition mission'…_ The Agent rolled her eyes at her mission's real nickname.

'Okay, you're all done.' The doctor smiled. 'It's nice to have a shorter visit.' She sighed. The Black Widow, being the spy she was, became curious.

'What do you mean?' The agent pondered innocence and emotion spreading her face.

The doctor studied her for a while, thought to herself as if deciding whether to trust her or not, and shrugged. 'The only other patient I've had today took three hours to assess.' The doctor laughed thinking she had not given anything away, but Agent Romanoff was deep in her thought.

_Three hours?_ She mused. _If that's just for an assessment… then they're ill._ **Note: Not physically, but mentally. If it had been three hours in surgery then she'd have probably shrugged it off.**

The agent studied the Doctor. Her body language told her to trust what she was saying. The doctor nodded a goodbye and Agent Romanoff pretended to walk towards the door. She kept her eye on the doctor the whole time.

With her back turned to the Widow, the Doctor placed 'Agent Smutt's file in a cabinet, allowing the Agent to glimpse at the other files in her care. There was one.

And it was packed full of information.

Not bothering to say goodbye to the doctor, trying not to care; she knew she'd never see that woman again, on one side because she had a different doctor every time, on the other because… she had well… 'said too much'. If it had been anyone other than her, then maybe they wouldn't have cared, but when Fury saw the footage he'd know; Agent Romanoff was well aware that one of his Agent's was critically ill.

She need to know the doctor's name, so she could track the where about of that file; once it was shipped into another doctor's care… she sighed, she should warn the woman that she wouldn't be living for longer than three hours. She cursed herself; ever since the 'Avengers' she'd began 'feeling' and 'caring' for others. Only a little, but still, it put her off her job. She had to forget that doctor, it was her fault anyway.

She found herself heading back to the room she'd been assigned for the night. Sighing as she opened the door; how pathetic has she become? After the Avengers everything now seemed boring and pointless, and not to mention tiring. Was she really entertaining herself by trying to discover this 'mystery agent'? Who would probably be someone she'd never even met before.

The answer was… yes… yes she was.

She thought to herself. Out in the field, it would have taken her less than a minute from receiving the information to the deduction on what was wrong with 'them'. _Assessments…_ She thought to herself. _Mental… so it's either 1. they've turned psycho or sociopathic… 2. They have a disorder that will prevent them from completing their work… or 3. They've begun to care about others around them, not just themselves. Thus not being able to complete their mis-_

She stopped dead. Feeling the sweat roll over her.

'_What happened to Agent Barton completing the mission?' 'I think he's otherwise engaged.'_

_Please lord…_ She prayed._ Please, just once let me instincts be wrong._

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**A/N: DUN DUN DUN! Haha, so was her instincts correct? And what exactly is wrong with Hawkeye? What do you think will happen? PM me or review :) I'm enjoying writing this story; and your supports really helping me along the way. I want to write more :) I also hope you don't think I'm being too harsh on the doctor; just trying to make it realistic… they are SHIELD for goodness sake! Oh, and anyone who's young or against it… the swearing and 'flirting' will start in the next chapter. Anyway… what did you think?**


	3. Diagnosed

**A/N: Wow, I want to thank everyone that's been PMing me with advice and such; anyway, I was thinking that this story will be around 8 chapters. I've got it all planned out, but if you're not happy with the way it's going; PM or review me. I would also like to give a shout out to Cyclone227 whose reviews have meant a lot to me :) it's nice to find another fan girl who shares my views; please check out her stuff. It might encourage her to update her story :)**

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**Chapter 3: Diagnosed**

The problem with SHEILD is that there was nowhere to hide. Therefore Agent Romanoff decided to do what she always did when she was spying on a fellow SHEILD agent; keep moving. If she paced back and forth from one bridge to another at a normal pace, no one would think about anything out of the ordinary.

The bridges were half a mile apart; any closer and she suspected that others would notice the same woman too frequently.

The worry that she had on her mind was the fact that if she was half a mile away from the medic's office, she wouldn't hear a thing. The other thing was the fact that if she did over hear a conversation, she could hardly stay for long.

Summarising all the problems in less than a second the Widow turned her head slightly to look at the doctor's examination room. This was the fifth time she had passed the room, and nothing was happening. She spoke to herself as she headed back to the bridge, it's what she did when she needed to think, _Usually Fury would have had her killed or something by now… it's been nearly ten hours since she let it slip about the patient and nothing has happened yet…? _She cursed herself silently, it wasn't her fault but she hated it when she couldn't reach the answer.

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It was eleven thirty at night. Agent Romanoff had been pacing up and down for nearly twenty hours. Nothing had happened.

She leant back on a railing in the metal corridor, twenty feet from the doctor's examination room. Only two other Agents were in this stretch of corridor at that moment in time and she was so involved with her own rage at that moment that she didn't care for their opinions.

It was starting to get frustrating.

She took it as a personal insult what Fury had done. After years in the field, Natasha Romanoff had earned the nickname Black Widow. Everyone she interrogated, anyone that she was assigned to deal with died one way or another. Anyone who made a mistake around her was 'taken care of' by their superior. It had started off as a code that her enemies had used to refer to her over comms, but after a while it had become a name she had familiarised herself with. Mainly because certain people found the aspect of what Black Widow spiders actually did amusing, certain people like -

She stopped half way through her thoughts. Something was happening. She adjusted her position so she was as hidden from view as possible; if it was Fury coming out, she'd be in ALOT of trouble.

It was the doctor. She didn't seem fased or the slightest bit worried. Entering the code, she locked her assessment room. Without a reason, or so she thought, to be threatened, she started to retreat back to, what Romanoff assumed, was her room.

The Black Widow waited five minutes before making her way into the entrance room. The door was locked with the SHEILD's usual security; a three stage system; a code, a finger print, and then a clearance card.

She hadn't planned on breaking in into the doctor's room, but it seemed that the change of events was making her plan screwed up. The only problems were 1, she had no back up at base, so she had to make an educational guess at the code, and 2, if Fury caught her, she wouldn't live for long. At all.

Gracefully dusting over the buttons to pick up grease from the doctor's fingers (with the pack that she always kept on her) , she began turning her mind back to what was possibly wrong with Haw- ehem, whoever it was that was ill.

'Tasha.' A voice made a shiver down her spine. The whisper was soft and sounded hurt, even tired. She turned swiftly, looking Agent Barton in the eye. Her hand dropped to her side, still holding the dusting brush. She tried to ignore the slight tug at the back of her throat, as she saw a look of pain in her colleague's eyes.

Not trusting herself to speak she kept quiet, changing her mind; being caught by Barton was far worse than being caught by Fury.

He grinned, laugh lines breaking out around his eyes and mouth. 'Really? You said i underestimated you... but when you crouch in a hidden corner where _no one_ can see you, you expect the Hawk not to get curious?' He chuckled, and she grinned; trust Clint to make any situation light-hearted. She snapped at her mistake.

'Barton...' she began, only to be interrupted.

'Don't. If you want to know what's wrong you might as well let me explain rather than you breaking in to one of Fury's most secure room... there's another four point system inside...' He trailed off before squinting at her suspiciously. 'I mean... you did know it was me right?'

She just lifted an eyebrow.

He laughed, leading her to a more private room.

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'When did you know?' She questioned, relaxing onto Barton's bed in his sleeping quarters as he perched on the end.

'Wowa,' he laughed. 'What's with all the questions? I've only just sat down.'

She nodded at his crouched position. 'You've never sat down in your life...' She grinned, 'Well never voluntary...' She smirked.

He laughed, probably louder than the joke deserved, and waited for a while until turning serious again. He ran his fingers through his sandy hair, and sighed. 'They got suspicious... after the Avengers. It started with a simple assessment, to make sure I wasn't still under Loki's... spell... and the doctor picked up an abnormality.' He whispered the last sentence.

Agent Romanoff remembered the 'simple assessment'. The one that she also had to complete. She remembered the questions, especially the ones about Barton and Coulson. The ones about her... feelings...

She took a deep, rattling breath. 'And how long have you... known...?' She tried to explain, straining her face to portray the right emotion. As Barton glanced at her with a puzzling expression, she tried to reform the sentence in her head.

'How long have you felt like _this?_' She questioned. She was trying to be subtle, but she knew that Fury had more than once made sneaky remarks about the 'friendship' between herself and agent Barton.

She gestured her hand between us, trying to assure him with a smile. But when his confused expression cleared, it was replaced with a humorous one.

He stood up, trying to stifle his laughter with his hand as his eyes darted around the room. He turned back to her, eyebrows raised. '_This?_' he asked, a grin spreading from ear to ear.

Natasha felt undermined. Had she got it wrong...?

'Tasha,' he laughed, and she tried not to flinch at her name. 'Do you think I am in love with you?' He mocked Romanoff's gesture and exaggerated it entirely.

She looked at him, eyebrows arching. She did not like to be mocked.

'Tash... I'm ill. Not in love... although you claim them to be the same thing.' His eyes wide with the last sentence. 'It's called Schizotypal Personality Disorder.' He rushed the last sentence.

She smiled, but doubt clouded her judgement. 'Why are you telling me this?' She quizzed him.

He looked hurt. 'I give you _some _credit.' He winked. 'I know you'll find out sooner or later, and I don't want you to get so obsessed you kill someone...' He grinned. 'Anyway, you'll probably want to know the reason when I suddenly disappear from SHEILD's database...'

Agent Romanoff racked her brains... Schizotypal...Schizotypal Personality Disorder ... she couldn't think. She'd heard about it but... she couldn't concentrate whilst Barton was giving her a look that made her weak at the knees. She remembered how he always assured her...

'He won't get rid of you.' She grinned, through her gritted teeth.

He just laughed and sat down on the bed. His head in his hands. She didn't know whether to comfort him or just sit there and let him enjoy the comfortable silence.

Only it wasn't a comfortable silence.

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**A/N: So Hawkeye has Schizotypal? If you don't know what it is, don't go find out; seriously, Black Widow discovers it all in the next chapter, so you can learn through her eyes. Anyway; what do you think? A shocker? I know a few people thought it was because he was inlove with him. You're all probably confused, but it is an eventual BlackHawk, but that's not what Fury first suspected from Barton.**


	4. Discovery

**A/N: There was a lot of mistakes in the last chapter, I apologise. So I know I said the swearing would start in the previous chapter, but it didn't… because I just felt that it wasn't right *shrug* if you have a problem, I'm sorry. Anyway, I would like to make a note that on Saturday the 20th of October I will be going abroad to a lovely country called Spain, and won't be returning for a week :( It's the school holidays, so you know. Anyway, that's why I've updated so quick; to compensate for what's going to happen; please stay with me, I'll be back soon. Don't lose interest. :) Please leave a review :)**

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**Chapter 4: Discovery**

Agent Romanoff was well aware that Fury would have seen the footage of her talking to Agent Barton in his room. She was also well aware that he was not bothering to do anything about it. Maybe he thought that there was no use in protecting the secret, as it was already a lost cause. Or maybe he thought somehow… the Black Widow could help his archer…?

'God dammit.' She cursed. She felt so helpless. Barton did things for a reason, even if he didn't know it, and telling Romanoff about his illness had to have some meaning to it. And yet she was stuck.

She had no idea what to do. The first time in her life, she was clueless.

The only useful thing to do, in her mind, was to identify what this illness actually was. It made sense, logically, and from there she could get her head around things. But how? Other agents, even if Fury had approved, would get suspicious. If the council found out about Barton's condition (assuming they didn't already know) they would have him disposed of automatically.

Before she had had access to any data account that she wanted, but that was because SHEILD had backed it. If she researched an illness, unassigned, it would arouse suspicions.

But she wasn't a major in hacking. She knew almost nothing about technology.

She pushed her hands against her temples. She was desperate but not that desperate… was she?

* * *

The familiar smell of alcohol and petrol filled her nose. The familiar sound of heavy rock filled her ears. She smiled at herself, she wanted to deny it, but she had enjoyed this mission most, indefinitely.

Throwing her legs over a metal desk, she sat in wait. She wore a simple skirt suit. A blue pencil skirt, a white tailored shirt and a military style navy blazer over the top; it was undoubtedly the worst thing she had ever worn. She had no idea how everyday people found this attractive at all; it was itchy and uncomfortable. She guessed that right now, however, that it would suffice.

Beginning to get impatient, she muttered the three words that made the music stop. 'Turn. It. Off.' And then silence filled the air.

'J.A.R.V.I.S? What the fuck's going on…?' An angry voice mumbled as he looked up from his newest invention. 'Oh…' He smirked at Agent Romanoff. Placing down the tools he had clasped in his hands, he walked across the room in three big strides.

'Sorry, sir, but Miss Natalie Rushman still has her voice programmed into the instruction database. Would you like me to resume the music, sir?' The monotone English accent asked Tony Stark.

Tony Stark did nothing but grin to himself as he heard his AI's commentary. 'It's _Romanoff _JARVIS. You should know that the original name was just a… what is the word…?' He gestured his hand, rotating the wrist as he racked his brains.

'Alias?' Agent Romanoff finished, raising her eyebrow.

'That's it.' He grinned, as he reached her position on the table. He had tank top stained with car fuel and scotch. 'So… couldn't stay away huh?'

'I need you to do something.' She said, her face plain. She flattened out her smile into a single line, in an attempt to show Tony how serious she was.

'Ooh, no shit, just straight to the point are we?' He joked, mockingly hurt.

'I need you to look up the symptoms of Schizotypal Personality Disorder.' She stared coolly at him.

Picking up and taking a sip from a glass of scotch, that looked like it had been sat on that bench for a long time, his eyes laughed. 'You need me?' He chuckled at her. 'The great Black Widow _needs me?_' He pretended to be surprised.

Then his eyes grew suspicious. 'Why?' He quizzed her. She just smiled. 'Oh no,' He shook his head. 'You are not using my _genius_ for one of your SHEILD missions.' He said face stern.

'You think if it were for SHIELD, I would have to ask _you _to look up symptoms of a well-known illness?' She stood up, her heels touching the concrete floor. 'It's not for SHIELD. That's why I need the one computer that can protect it's hard drive from SHEILD.' She stated, knowing that telling him the truth was the only way to get him to trust her and she didn't want to waste any more time.

His eyes widened. 'Then defiantly no!' He boomed. 'Against SHEILD? Are you mad?! They'll kill me.' He said, once again joking, she knew he was not afraid of SHEILD.

'Not against Tony. Just not for.' She grinned.

He looked at her, eyes half closed. 'Don't give me that crap… okay, then who?' He again questioned.

'A friend.' She smiled. Walking over to the projected screen, she leaned over the table and examined it. 'Tony, before I ask your AI to do it for me, you might want to block SHEILD's database.'

Tony Stark looked at her for a moment, as if deciding what to do. He nodded. 'Why not help out a friend once in a while?' He smiled. 'JARIVS.' He ordered, gaze fixed on Agent Romanoff.

'Sir.' They heard the AI react, before a crypt code appeared on the screen. They remained staring at each other, each suspicious of the other's actions. Until Tony Stark broke out with a grin.

'How is it that you are wearing the most hideous outfit, but you still look, so attractive?' He began flirting, as she rolled her eyes.

'JARVIS, please bring up the main symptoms of Schizotypal Personality Disorder.' She instructed the AI to load all the files on the illness that the Web owned.

'So who has this illness?' Tony quizzed from behind her. She wasn't surprised that he had been watching her. She remained silent, still flicking through the files for a brief outline of the mental illness. 'I mean, I'm guessing a SHIELD agent…' He mused.

She looked at him curiously. 'Well,' He raised his eyebrows, in a way to say _I'm smarter than you_. 'If you _think _someone has it, it will be an agent. I mean 'Their odd behaviour may look like that of people with schizophrenia. For example, they may also have unusual preoccupations and fears, such as fears of being monitored by government agencies.'' He quoted from the screen. 'But then I guess, that's what SHEILD want…' He sped up his speaking, now on a roll, happy to show off and tell Agent Romanoff everything he knew.

''More commonly, however, people with schizotypal personality disorder behave oddly and have unusual beliefs. They cling to these beliefs so strongly that it prevents them from having relationships'… now, that shows _why _SHEILD would have a fear for it… I mean, they could hardly have an Agent who gets paranoid… or latches onto something.' He grinned, but became serious when he noticed the lines appear on the Widow's forehead as she took it all in.

'I mean think about it,' He now shortened his remarks, trying to find a way for her forehead to relax. 'All these things, discomfort in social situations, inappropriate displays of feelings, odd behaviour or appearance, odd beliefs, fantasies, or preoccupations, odd speech… are typical in a SHEILD agent…' he began explaining, assuming the Romanoff didn't know what he was going to say, when in actual fact, the reason she was quiet was _because _she knew what he was going to say. 'But, that's only how you _appear_, otherwise, SHEILD agents adapt to social situations and you can put on an act… but if this Agent has ... this,' he gestured, 'Then they can't trick people or anything like that, then-'

Romanoff stood up and turned. 'Thank you, Mr Stark. That will be all.' She smiled, the corners of her mouth being forced up into a curl. She began walking out, until Stark gripped her arm. He peered into her eyes.

'I do remember how _everyone_… interacted… with each other, when we were in the Avengers…' He muttered, his eyes no longer laughing. She peered back, adjusting to her 'SHEILD act'; her eyes cold, her body stiff.

She blocked out the thoughts of Agent Barton's icy exterior, that he always tried to soften with a joke… the blocked out the sudden realisation, the sudden sense, of all the times he had laughed at serious things, all the times he had joked about in inappropriate situations, all the times he had been referred to as odd…

And the blocked out the slight nagging sensation, that this illness meant he wasn't comfortable around people. It meant he wasn't perticually happy around her...

'I don't know what you mean.' She pulled her shoulder away from his arm.

No longer masking her feelings with a cheerful strut, she stormed away from Tony Stark. He'd grown to accept that when 'The Black Widow' left, she left.

**A/N: I know there was a block and a half of information; but I just wanted to make sure you were aware what the illness actually was, and also if you've seen Iron Man 2, Natasha introduces herself as Natalie Rushman when she becomes his assistance :) **


	5. Discussions

**A/N: So I'm back from Spain! Brown as a nut (no relation to Sherlock ;) – if you don't watch the BBC series, ignore that) I want to say a big thank you for staying with me during the break, and I promise to return to normal. I did tweak a few things in the last chapter, the hacking being one of them, I've discussed it with Rosalie Rowan, I am trying to keep everything about Natasha as realistic as possible; compared to the stories that humanise her more than she is (she's a cold hearted assassin and we have to remember that) but I wanted to include Tony Stark, and hey, it's a fan fiction. Anyway this is quite an important chapter, although it's slower than the others.**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Discussions**

SHEILD felt different. Everything was the same, the grey walls, the metal barriers, the constant bleeping of some form of technology.

But it _felt _different.

Her strong strides seemed slower, than previously, like they had lost their confidence. The walls, grey as always, seemed duller now (if it was possible) than they had before. Everything; she had studied everything before, so carefully, so she knew every line and every pattern… yet it was like she hadn't studied them properly. The medics, the agents, everyone she had carefully depicted, making sure they were no threat, but she didn't know them. Not really. Then, she guessed, she didn't have the chance.

The Widow knew the reason behind her ludicrous thinking, although she wouldn't bring herself to admit it. It was part of her training, to analyse and discover the problem, so she did it to herself subconsciously. Yet she denied it, forced it out of her brain. She _did not _feel helpless. She _did not _feel weak.

She also denied that she was avoiding Agent Barton.

An agent passed her. The hand of the agent brushing against her side, she turned to look at the level five SHEILD agent, who nodded at her. It was the secret code all level fours and up used to indicate instructions to return to base, often used for a large scale mission when level threes and lower were around. Yet, she had a feeling this wasn't the 'typical' mission. (If ever there was one).

* * *

Agent Romanoff entered the main area of the facility, not to be greeted by Director Fury, but by the array of other agents. Hill, Carter, even Rodgers, who now worked for SHEILD, but no Fury. Instead, at his station, his screens all displayed the same address; a room located near the centre of the base, a room Agent Romanoff was unfamiliar with. She growled under her breath, he knew she hated unfamiliarity.

* * *

Despite the Widow had never before been to this room, she knew the layout pretty well, after all it was the same as every other SHEILD room. She cocked an eyebrow, of cause it would be the same; why did she expect anything else.

Two other men were in the room with her. One stood up, facing the wall, the other slouched across one chair; out of the eight surrounding the very large, very brown, table. He was turning slowly, spinning repeatedly in the chair.

'Remind me to compliment the person who designed these rooms to all look the same.' He laughed through his teeth, and Romanoff smiled; despite Agent Barton's humorous nature, even he was uncomfortable with the silent Fury that stood at the end of the room.

She took a seat, sitting neatly, in the centre of the chair. Only then did she realise that Barton was s_at_. Not crouched or stood like usual. She swallowed the guilt; she'd only really talked to him once in a week.

Fury, not impressed by Barton's joke, finally turned. His face looked casual, his figure still tall, but relaxed. 'Now that we're all up to date with the situation,' he started, raising his, one, eyebrow. 'Maybe you can tell me what you plan to do about it.' He finished, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Romanoff's face relaxed into a cocky grin, whilst Barton's creased into a frown. 'I don't understand.' He whispered, unable to admit defeat, but knowing he had to be honest.

'You're compromised Barton. I'd like to know how to change that status.' Fury leant forward on his hands, daring Barton to look him in the eye.

Hawkeye looked at Romanoff's face, turned to Fury's, and back to Romanoff's. 'Nothing.' He said, almost laughing. 'There's nothing.' His face turned hysterical.

The Black Widow's grin left, leaving a confused frown in its place. She had worked with Barton many times, and he was the last agent she knew that would give up.

'There are medicines.' she began, 'They're a bit extreme; I mean they might change your personality completely if you started taking them but it might be…' her sentence trailing off at the mocking expression on Hawkeye's face.

'What happens if I'm captured? Or get into a situation where I can't get the drugs? What if I'm hiking up a mountain and it's taking more days than I expected, or I have to abandon my possessions…?' He asked, talking frequently, a sneer on his lips. 'What then _Tasha_?' He emphasised as she cringed, 'What will the famous Black Widow do then?' He finished, his face calming down.

She kept her face cool, although inside she was panicking; shocked by how much his remarks had affected her. _Their odd behaviour may look like that of people with schizophrenia._ She repeated to herself, remembering her conversation with Stark. _He's ill… he's ill…_ She forced herself to remember.

'If you two are quite finished with your domestic…' Fury muttered, and they both realised he had moved away from the table. 'The question is… Is this risk one we will take?' He confronted them both, although his gaze was fixed on Agent Romanoff, she felt as if he was trying to tell her something… trying to make her figure something out…

'No.' Barton snarled. 'There is nothing that can be done.'

_They get latched onto an idea. They get latched onto an idea._ She told herself, ignoring the niggling sensation that yearned for her to say something.

She glanced at Fury, who was now staring at her. She looked back at Barton, whose face hadn't changed but had cracks of sadness in his eyes. She was going to figure out what to do. She was.

He mind began whizzing, collecting all the information and subconsciously replaying it; _they get latched_… so she had to 'unlatch' him? … _'Not good in social situations' 'Don't feel comfortable near strangers'…_ She stood up. A smile curling on the ends of her mouth.

'I suggest we give Agent Barton a test run.' Her monotone voice relayed her plan to Director Fury, although she could tell he was expecting this. 'He tries the medicine,' She glanced at Barton, 'The weakest one, mind you, if his personality changes too drastically he might end up morally objecting,' Humour played on her words, covering up her feelings, deep down, that she didn't want him to change. 'Then he comes with me on my next mission. Hill was meant to assist but I'm sure she won't object when you,' She nodded at Fury, 'tell her there's a change of plan. We see how he does. I can keep him in check… if he's… coping… he can go on assist missions. I mean, I assume his state of mind doesn't affect his skills with a bow and arrow.'

Fury grinned at the Widow's announcement. Barton's hard face suddenly glazed over with… hope. And as Romanoff caught the sight of this emotion in his eyes, she couldn't help but feel warmth spread through her body, but not quite her heart.

'Very well.' Fury nodded, appearing to be analysing the information in his head, when the Widow knew he had planned for this to happen. He left, leaving the two agents alone in SHEILD's conference room. Agent Barton now standing, mirroring the Widow.

_Usually he'd make a joke. _She thought, annoyed by the disturbance of everything normal. She felt the silence turn awkward, as she racked her brains for something to say.

'Thanks Tasha.' Barton whispered, not looking directly at her and leaving quietly. She didn't mind, she knew it was hard for SHEILD agents to even say thank you. She grinned.

She later realised, that was the first time she hadn't flinched at her name.

* * *

**A/N: I know Fury's meant to be this big over ruling guy and everything, but look at the Avengers; he's nice really :) So I thought he'd let Natasha and Clint work together. Tell me what you think; how've you responded to the twist that Natasha feels for Hawkeye first rather than the other way round, as you probably first expected in the second chapter? I tried to describe it as something other than 'happiness' etc… more 'warmth' etc like instead of 'how much it hurt her' I used 'how much it affected her'… because I wanted it to be through Natasha; a spy who was trained to not get emotionally attached; so she doesn't know what love is and it's new to her and she won't admit her feelings. Review please :)**


	6. AN

**A/N: I'm in hospital at the moment. i'm so sorry. I will update soon; as soon as I get out. I hope that you all stay with me; but that's why I haven't been updating.**


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